Worse Than Death
by Raven O'Reilly
Summary: The overarching theme reflects the title: a world overrun by evil, like Voldemort, is quite possibly worse than death. It is an alternate reality that takes place after Book 7. Voldemort won and has taken over, though pockets of resistance still exist.


**Two Years Ago…**

The sun was beginning to set over the town of Old Forge, New York. Old Forge was a popular place in the Adirondack Mountains for its water park, at least among vacationing muggles. The townsfolk, those of older generations, remembered the place when it was the Enchanted Forest. The Enchanted Forest was still there, depicting various fairytales by mock setups of little cottages and mannequins of the famous story figures. However, only parents and their small children took that path down storybook road. The older kids and near adults went straight for the wild water rides. Parents found sections of beach chairs and umbrellas to sit and relax, while their kids ran amuck around the park. The place had always been expanding with more and more exciting new rides to go on.

However, the town was now deserted and completely in shambles. The wind blew hollowly through the different water rides, making strange mourning sounds. A blazing, setting sun cast its colors on the buildings and over the water of the largest lake in the Fulton Chain. The waves were choppy and white capped from the wind; they crashed up against the small beach across from the water park. All was silent, save for the wind's shrill voice, the depressed bellows from hollowed out buildings, and the swishing rain sound the leaves of trees made when the wind blew through their branches.

The place had the looks of a panicked evacuation. Trash swirled in the wind, lost clothing, abandoned suitcases and cars and other pieces of property that had once cluttered the streets, were long since swept to the nooks and crannies of the deserted town. Rubble was all that was left to block the roads and walkways and that had crushed small, quaint covered bridges.

It would all soon be remedied, as the Dark forces made their way into the town from the north. The Dark Lord Voldemort had made his temporary base of operations at the top of Rocky Mountain, about ten or so miles from Old Forge. Rocky Mountain was an ideal place for observation of the coming battle, or rather, the coming slaughter. The Dark Lord and his generals were confident that they would wipe out the last of those who resisted his way, his rule, and his law. Though, the coming slaughter seemed beneath him, he wanted to be there, as the last ray of hope for his enemies would be extinguished. He would leave his mark on this place, his stamp of doom.

Along the main road of Old Forge, Cowen's still stood, though the third floor was completely gone. It once was a sort of all-purpose store full of everything from hardware to books to chinaware. Everything that remained was trashed, merchandise scattered everywhere. It was here, in this store's basement, the last of the remaining resistance held counsel. Many of their leaders were dead and those left knew this battle was final. The younger wizards and witches, plus some muggles, were terrified of the fact that Voldemort was here personally. Veterans wore stern expressions, frightened, but so used to the feeling, that they held some control over themselves.

"The choice is to stand and fight or run," spoke a tall, young man with dark brown hair and blazing blue eyes. "I'm going to stay and fight." There were some gasps from around the room. Forty wizards, witches and muggles alike sat or stood around the main room. Elijah Abbot looked to each person as he spoke, "There is no chance for us to win. Voldemort is to powerful, has won to much ground… but at least one person will have to make this last stand." Worried glances were cast amongst those he had come to know and hold close.

His wife, Rebecca, stood up next to him, "I will stand with you." He turned to face her, taking a hand into his. He knew she would never leave his side and even if he had commanded her to leave, even bound and gagged her, sending her on her way with those who did, she would find her way back. They couldn't be separated. He kissed her hand, as one after another, every single person in the room stood with them.

* * *

Atop Rocky Mountain, tents were set up according to status. Only the Dark Lord and any members of his Inner Circle remained on the mountaintop. His army was encircled around on the ground. They made no attempt to hide themselves, to enchant their encampment. There was no need too. Voldemort wanted his enemies to know he was there, to know their doom; to see it, to smell it, to fear it. His tent was in the center of the encampment. It was in a perfect place, on top of a mountain, where he could look down upon everyone, including his own men. A green and silver Slytherin flag fluttered in the brisk breeze at the top of the center pole. Silver runes were magically emblazoned upon the hems of the heavy, black velvet. Inside, within the antechamber of the tent, was his Lordship's war room, where he dealt out his instructions to his generals.

The room was lavishly cushioned in all cool colors, with the main theme of deep green and silver. The room was lit just enough by candles and such floating in corners and over the center of a rectangular table made of black willow that stood in the center of the room, it's legs ornately carved into snakes and perhaps even hissed when stepped upon carelessly. On top of the table was a layout of the land, specifically of Old Forge. The Dark Lord stood with his back to the table, thinking, as the other men in the room went over different strategies. In the one corner of the room, a finely dressed man sat with a finger across his lips, listening.

Another map was then rolled out over top the others by Drake Boleyn, an eye patch over his left eye, "This is of the… 'Water Safari,' located in the center of town. It is most likely the Rebels will set up their defenses. There are plenty of places to hide and set traps," he pointed to various places about on the map, "and they have muggles on their side, which will be--"

"Their downfall." The Dark Lord himself had cut off Boleyn. He turned, his red ruby eyes flickering excitedly, to face his men, "And I have no intention of finding any disappointment in this battle, no matter how… easy it will be." He smiled charmingly while raising a glass of red wine languidly to his lips to keep his throat moist. Voldemort had come a long way since his days of terrorizing the Potter child at Hogwarts. His strength was fully returned to him, even his handsome countenance. He wore his black hair short and neatly cropped and sported a finely trimmed black goatee with a thin mustache. His skin was still a pale white and he often sipped wine to keep a scratchy cough at bay. His face was not as gaunt as it once was, but now healthy.

After long hours of discussing and planning down to the very details of the glorious end, they finally finished in the wee hours of the morning. Satisfied, the Dark Lord looked toward the man in the corner. "See to your charge."

* * *

A lone figure stood out on the bear rock edge looking over Fourth Lake. The dark sky was beginning to brighten and as time passed, the grayness of early morning began to bleed. The sun slowly became like the pupil of a bloodshot eye. The figure knew it was a symbol, a foreshadowing, of what was to come. Red eyes fell to a sapling that had sprung out from the cracks in the rocks. A raven landed upon one of the thin branches and cocked its head at the figure, whose shadow now fell long on the ground. Crimson eyes met ebony and for a few moments, there seemed to be a connection, but the sound of ruffling velvet and soft brisk footsteps broke the moment and the raven took air again with a ragged caw. 

A hand rested upon the figure's cloaked shoulder, "Good morning, Seer." His voice was deep, alluring and accented from the figure's home country; one of them, at least.

"Mr. Gray…" the voice was feminine, soft, but scratchy. She cleared her throat, turning her hooded head towards the man for a moment, only to glance down at his hand and then back to capture his gaze. She watched him take a breath, a brow quirked slightly, and he removed his hand. She turned back towards the lake.

"Sleep well?"

No answer came. He watched her gloved hand move to her mouth and she coughed. He realized that she had recognized the question for what it was- small talk. She rarely participated in idle talk for many reasons, many of which where her own, but mostly because her voice gave out.

"His Lordship wishes to know if you are ready." The statement was really only said to get her to speak. His position as her escort had only begun recently and he was still adjusting to her silence, to her mannerisms.

"I am always ready, Mr. Gray." Her eyes had turned towards the east, where the last battalions of the Dark Forces were preparing. Others had moved into position during the night. The town of Old Forge, where the final battle would take place, was surrounded. No one would be able to escape the coming slaughter.

"Perfect," he watched the word puff out into the cool air. He could not see her wince because of her deep hood, but she had at the sound of that word. It had been perhaps subconscious. However, it was a word she despised.

"Do not ever say that word in my presence again." Her voice had a strange tone to it, like the taste of an ingredient that could not be named, but was on the tip of the tongue.

"Forgive me. I shall honor your wishes."

She did not react or reply to his apology. Silence fell again, save for the sound of the wind ruffling through robes and tents.

"The question is… are you ready, Mr. Gray?" She turned her head to look at him. Her eyes seemed to light on fire from the reflection of the sun's rays. He felt the distinct feeling of those eyes probing his soul. He definitely would not lie. She would know.

"I believe so." He waited for her to respond. She then nodded and turned back towards the east. After his initial relief, the question finally registered true- she had never asked him such a question before.

"Why do you ask?"

It was as if she had been waiting for him to ask the question, "Because you will meet up with a particular foe. One you know well."

* * *

Inside the Water Safari, the renegades were prepared. It had taken all night and they were tired, but they were ready. A raven soared overhead and then swooped in towards the Mt. Killermanjaro slide, which appeared lifeless as intended. The tall slide was the highest point in the water park and placed farther back within the park. Safer inside than the double Wild Waters slide, which was located smack dab in the front by the parking lot. Killermanjaro was enchanted to appear empty, but it served as a lookout, a crow's nest of a ship. In this case, perhaps a raven's nest, for the raven landed on the window ledge of the boxed top.

"How close did you get?" Elijah stood inside with a pair of charmed binoculars. He did not move from his position, but continued to look out towards the west. The raven hopped to the floor and then morphed into the form of a man. He was the tall, dark and handsome type, with startling hazel-blue eyes and a cleft upper lip. His expression was grave, yet sad.

"Very close." He paused in his speech, as he walked up next to his comrade. Elijah removed the binoculars from his eyes and looked at his friend.

"Well?" The other did not answer immediately, but looked out over the bloody sky, as the clouds seemed to mop up the color. "Kerwin, what did you see?" his tone was more urgent.

"I saw her," he finally answered. He swallowed hard, forcing the small growing lump in his throat. "She was standing by the edge of the cliff watching the sunrise." Elijah said nothing. "It's her… but not her." He shook his head, unable to get the expression on her face out of his mind's eye, unable blink those firestone eyes away.

Elijah put his hand on Kerwin's shoulder. He had not seen Talia since long before her disappearance. All he had heard of her were rumors that spread like locusts through a wheat field; that she had joined Voldemort willingly and eagerly, that she had ruby eyes, that she was able to read souls. It had turned out that the eye rumor was true, but Elijah refused to believe anything else. She would have never joined Voldemort, would rather have died than joined him. But, only those who loved her kept these beliefs and kept them silent in efforts to keep The Seer's identity a secret. Since Lucius Malfoy's takeover of the Ministry of Magic and the rise of Voldemort, it quickly became harder and harder to believe, to hope.

"The attacking force is on the move, though we're surrounded," Kerwin continued after he had gathered himself.

"So, it'll begin soon, then," Elijah replied and Kerwin nodded. He patted Kerwin's shoulder again and turned to head down.

Winding through the different pathways, over slides and under bridges, Elijah made his way toward the front line to let them know of the news. He went from position to position to check up on his compatriots, to encourage them. Finally, he met up with his wife in the machine room where everything in the water park was connected. Rebecca looked up at him and smiled, which he smiled in return. He could do nothing else but smile when she did. Even on the edge of a plunge they both knew they would not survive, she smiled. He walked over to her and kissed her.

"You'd think you'd only see these things in movies." She was referring to the large red handled switch with large bold lettering that read "ON" and "OFF." The switch was in the "OFF" position. They both laughed and she placed her hand on the handle. He followed suit and placed his over hers.

A loud groan filled the air as lights and rides and water all sprung to life.

* * *

At one time, Water Safari had been a place alive with visitors from all around New York and neighboring states, full of families and all shapes and sizes spending a day in the sun. Now the water park was alive with a different sort of liveliness. It had been eerie for the invading Death Eaters to enter a place ready and waiting for children and adults alike to enjoy themselves. Music played, popcorn popped and hotdogs sizzled, but none of the Death Eaters' enemies were seen. They had broken into two groups: one entered the Enchanted Forest, while the other entered the water park. Each section had a surprise or two awaiting them.

Inanimate objects suddenly sprung to life, causing the Death Eaters duty to decimate the opposition that much more difficult. Waterslides that once held screams of laughter became animated, ironically, like snakes, and quickly surrounded a group of Death Eaters to squeeze the life out of them or drag them underwater. Of course, some of the Death Eaters were able to counter some of the charms, so now the gigantic slides were turning on each other, grappling onto the other in piercing metal death grips. However, it had turned out these slides were part of a distraction and out of the air, bullets materialized and struck several Death Eaters with deadly accuracy. Muggle weapons would have elicited a certain derisive laughter if they had not killed so easily.

Meanwhile, the Death Eaters entering the Enchanted Forest were met with a sign standing by a tall statue of Paul Bunyan—"Story Book Lane: Wander through our wonderful collection of story books that come alive!" It derived a few chuckles from some of the younger Death Eaters, but the veterans held their tongues. They were more impatient to get the fight over with, as it seemed futile in the beginning. Fanning out, they progressed down Story Book Lane without problem until they reached a town circle type setting of different storybook characters. There was Cinderella, Hansel and Gretel, The Three Bears, and Mary's garden. It was then that the characters they had passed came up behind them and other characters in the circle came to life and out of their doors.

The entire park was in total upheaval now. Curses, charms, spells and incantations shot in all directions leaving various colored streaks in the air, various smells and various screams when they hit their targets. Bullets from muggle weapons complimented the magic in an odd sort of way. Paul Bunyan's axe chopped at various Death Eaters that scrambled about the ground like black ants until one of the smaller slides made it over to him to encircle him like a boa constrictor. Water mains broke which caused there to be several geyser like explosions about the park.

* * *

"LOOK OUT!"

Kerwin made a flying leap for cover as a burst of fire shot through the air and attacked the falling roof of the small building he and two other men had taken defense positions in. They had lost a lot of ground and many lives, but there was no option to give up.

"Thanks!" he shouted to Riley, who had called the warning to him, as he crawled up next to the man. Riley was roughly about his brothers' age, but the exact opposite of the twins. He was headstrong and brash, traits that probably had kept him alive thus far. Riley nodded and leaned against the crumbling wall while wiping his brow with the back of his dirty hand.

"Where'd the fire come from?" With all the water spraying around, they thought fire would be the last thing they needed to worry about. "We're in a damn water park, for Chrissakes!" Kerwin shook his head, not knowing why. The fire above them radiated heat down on them and they knew the room would soon be to hot and to dangerous to remain in. Kerwin took a chance and peeked his head up to find the origin of the fire.

Directly across from them was a bonfire of what used to be another building, behind it was black smoke as if another fire had been put out. Kerwin ducked back down, "Someone must have used a fire curse to flush the others out. I don't see any bodies though."

Riley took another look. As he scanned the scene, a question came to his mind, "Then how did the fire get all the way over here? There's no trail."

Kerwin shook his head again. It did not make sense, but then fire had a mind of it's own. It fed off whatever it could get its tendrils on.

"You don't see anyone?"

Riley shook his head and ducked back down, "No, but my eyes are starting to water. This smoke is going to suffocate us before anything else." Kerwin decided to take one last look. Peeking his head up to the break in the wall, he scanned the area again. This time, he saw a shadowed figure move along the front of the burning building.

"There's someone out there."

"There is?" Riley peeked his head up too. Blinking tears away, he saw the figure as well. "The guy is strolling along, unafraid!" He sounded enraged and lifted his hand up with his wand to cast a curse. Kerwin caught his hand.

"Don't! Not yet, he might not know we're here."

"Yet," Riley grumbled.

A wind came through and cleared some of the smoke, which made the figure come into view. The robes were not of any regular Death Eater, but silver ruins lined the fringes of the clothing. Upon closer inspection, they could tell the figure was feminine. The wind blew again and the figure stopped moving, then turned to look right at them, or so it seemed she did. A gut wrenching feeling flashed through Kerwin.

"Merlin… it's Ta—The Seer."

The realization came with a crash. Part of the floor above them finally caved in and came crashing down towards them. They dodged to either side as the ball of burning wood came down onto the spot they had been sitting in. Then, another voice sounded over the devouring crackle of the fire.

"AVADA KEDARVA!"

Kerwin turned at a man's death scream. He prayed that it was not Riley, but his instinct told him otherwise. The caster's curse had a familiar tone to it, but Kerwin knew it was not Riley's voice. Through the flames, he saw the visage of another Death Eater, but he could't get a good shot in. Rather than waste his time and risk his life even more with the flames quickly eating away at the building, he made for the closest exit and hoped to find better ground outside the blazing building.

Choking on smoke, Kerwin dodged through a doorway partially on fire and dashed through a destroyed building that was nothing more than an outer shell that was falling apart. He almost tripped over debris of stone and steal and wood, but kept himself going until he was safely behind a stone wall. He gulped down fresh clean air, trying to stifle any more coughs, lest he give his position away. The roar of the fire was beginning to grow as flames jumped from building to tree. Taking a chance, he peeked around the side of the wall to see the Death Eater emerge from the building. Ducking back, he felt the distinct swish of air fly by him- he had ducked a curse in the knick of time.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," came the long droll of the Death Eater known as Dorian Gray.

* * *

The Seer stood in the center of the open area staring at the building she had just set fire too, though she carried no wand. She was not permitted to carry one. A small smirk came to her lips when she heard a blood-curdling scream within the building. She lifted her hands up before her, level to her shoulders, and a gust of wind whipped about her before going for the flickering flames. The wind seemed to funnel the flames from building to building, tree to tree.

Finished with her work there, she began to move forward down the lane. The plan was to flank their enemy and meet up in the back of the park, where all the amusement rides were located. Her path had so far been rather easy. The Death Eaters that had come before her had cut through most of the defense and she made up the rear, burning everything in sight as she had been instructed.

Her ruby eyes glittered hypnotically in the firelight. Her attention was brought to a large tree to her right and so she turned her head immediately to spy a figure point a wand and cast a curse. She did not move and the curse hit her in the shoulder. She shook, as if a violent shiver had come over her. The feeling was like electricity flowing over rubber. However, the curse took no effect. She held up her right arm to inspect it for any damage. The onyx cuff just below her wrist stung a little, but it was nothing more than an annoyance. She outstretched the same arm towards the figure's direction; wind picked up fire and sent it towards the tree, which burst into flame.

The wind then whipped around her like a whirlwind as several spells and curses shot in her direction. A look of displeasure crossed her face. The Death Eaters were supposed to have cleared the way.

"No matter," she whispered to herself. The wind sucked up the cast magic into its whirlwind and dispersed the magic into the sky, allowing for it to rain down where it may.

From behind a cluster of closely grown trees, two bodies stood watching the woman control fire in fear. One was Patrick Hayes; a young wizard that would've graduated Hogwarts had history not played out in Voldemort's favor. Next to him was a muggle, Margaret, who held a pistol with only a few shots left. Colin, another young wizard, though a few more years older, came running up next to them. He was still trying to put out a few flames that had bitten into his clothing.

"Didn't you see me NAIL her? I was dead on and nothing happened!" He finished patting out a flame to see that neither of his friends were paying attention. He turned to see what they were looking at and his mouth dropped open.

"How… how in the world can she do that?" Margaret asked in a fearful, yet awed tone.

"It's The Seer," Patrick answered, "We're up against The Seer." Margaret fell silent and Colin did as well, but for only a moment.

"Shit… We took down those other Death Eaters, we can take her on too."

"Are you daft, Colin? We had the help of Lester and Byron… They're dead now. What do you purpose we do? Conjure up are own super powers and duel to the death?" He shook his head.

"Super powers?" Margaret questioned. "She has to be using magic."

"Well, DUH, Mags." Margaret ignored Colin's tone.

"She's using ancient magic. Rumor has it that she's a pureblood from a very old family line. They say she was taught to harness this magic by Voldemort himself. They say wherever she is, Voldemort is not far behind and vice versa." His meaning was not misunderstood.

"So even if we do defeat her, the Dark Lord is the final boss," Margaret finished and Patrick nodded, with the videogame reference flying over his head.

"I say we take her down anyway. We're going to all die whether we fight or not." Before either Patrick or Margaret could say anything to the contrary, a burst of flame hit the tree they were hiding behind and the impact sent them diving forward away from the flames.

They scrambled up behind a large boulder to regain themselves. When they all seemed to be fine and mildly scorched, they assessed the situation.

"We don't stand a chance against her. We barely did against the Death Eaters. I only have a few rounds left. If she can stop curses, she probably will be able to stop bullets."

"There's always a chance she can't," and with his answer, Colin grabbed the gun from Margaret. Margaret or Patrick couldn't stop him; Colin ran up to an opening next to the flaming tree. He aimed and fired several shots.

* * *

Kerwin moved deftly through the ruins of the building, listening to the Death Eater drone on and on about giving up and how he stood no chance. As annoying as it was, he found it useful because he knew where the regrettable foe was at all times. He did not think his identity was revealed yet, so he tried morphing into his raven form.

Nothing happened.

He tried again and there was the same result. He cursed.

"There's no use to try to escape." Dorian was leaning against the wall directly opposite of Kerwin, picking at his nails. Kerwin cursed again.

"Then it looks like it'll be a duel to the death, Dorian," he answered with a rueful smile.

"It seems so, old friend."

Dorian aimed his wand at the wall and cast a powerful blasting curse, which blew a hole in the wall. Kerwin was not there anymore, however. Immediately, Dorian ducked to the side when he saw movement and then the swish of a curse flying by made him hit the wall harder than he had intended. Playful laughter filtered through the flames, filling the unusual silence.

"Hope you didn't get your cloak too dirty, Dorian."

Dorian smirked. Kerwin had not changed much since their friendship began. Friendship… if that was what he could call it now. They were on opposing sides, but until the war began, they had remained in contact. Though, Kerwin had not known Dorian joined the winning side. It didn't surprise him, but he admitted to himself some disappointment. The two had been an unlikely friendship, but a grand one. The duel was surreal, as if they were joking with each other as they always had done in the past, but the duel was very much in the real.

"Not so much," he answered as he dusted his cloak off.

The tension broke and the two cast one spell after another; fired curse after curse after curse at each other. The walls of the ruins tumbled and shattered about them while fire flowed in to fill gaps and cracks where it could. They were soon running out of cover. Kerwin jumped and tumbled behind some cover to regain himself. He was covered in ash, dirt and grime, out of breath and the fire was closing in on the both of them. He smirked and thought to himself, "Perhaps we'll both meet our end here."

Meanwhile, Dorian was becoming anxious. This fight was taking longer than needed and he had left The Seer unattended for too long. A large popping sound rippled through the smoky air and he turned to peek out from behind his wall. He watched a large piece of stone fall from what remained of the second story to the ground. A painful cry followed. He got up and ran over to the spot as quickly as possible.

He was not prepared for what he saw.

Kerwin was trapped under the chunk of stone. His lower half was completely under it. Dorian held his breath and watched carefully for any movement. Finally, Kerwin coughed and blood dotted his lips. Blindly, he groped for his wand, but it was nowhere to be seen. Dorian walked over to his friend's side and knelt down to take the man's hand.

"L-looks like you won, Dori-an." That cheeky smile that had won the hearts of so many women appeared on Kerwin's face. Dorian could see blood filling in the seams between Kerwin's teeth.

"I'll… take care of her."

A confused expression came over Kerwin's face as he stared at his enemy, his friend. He coughed and Dorian felt the firm grip of his hand relax. Despite the fire that roared around them, Dorian felt cold. Kerwin's lifeless eyes did not remain confused; in fact, the expression was unreadable to him. It was disturbingly unreadable. He quickly removed his hand from the dead man's and closed his eyelids. He stood, cast one last glance at the dead wizard, and then left to find his charge.

* * *

The Seer turned her head when she heard a cry from beyond the wall of fire and stone to her right. She turned slightly to look, to see if there was anything that identified the sound. At this point in time, she did not fully understand the reasons why this cry reached out to her. Then, there was a biting feeling in her left shoulder and her attention was brought back to the forefront.

There was another whiz and a bite, though not as bad as the first, on her arm. She looked curiously at her arm as blood lined the ripped cloth before casting her gaze back up to the figure that stood just outside the burning tree line.

Patrick and Margaret leapt to their feet and watched in slow motion as Colin ran forward shooting at The Seer, who seemed distracted for a moment. Colin thought it was his moment to take, to stop her from spreading the fire further, and to stop her from helping the Dark Lord.

"AVADA KEDARVA!"

The Irish accent rang clear through the smoke and haze of the fire and Colin dropped like a sack of potatoes to the ground. Margaret pulled Patrick towards the forest, trying to get him to run because hanging around only meant death. Patrick watched the Death Eater that killed Colin run up to The Seer, giving them their chance to escape. They were the last wizards in the area to stop the Dark Lord's forces on this side of the park.

Dorian ran to The Seer's side and went to touch her, but hesitated, as he remembered her reaction to such a gesture earlier that morning. He looked back in the direction he had cast his killing curse and saw nothing but fire and the body of the person who had tried to attack The Seer.

"Are you alright?" Concern filled his tone and he noticed she had a faraway look in her eyes.

"I am… fine," she answered, rasping. He offered her his arm and surprisingly she took it.

"Was there anyone else?"

She looked at the dead body as they passed, "Two others." Dorian looked like he was torn between the feeling of alarm and annoyance. She smirked slightly, "Do not worry. If they escape the fire, they will be the ones who live on with this memory."

Fire cleared a path for them as they made their way towards the meeting point located in the amusement grounds section of the park. Dorian looked on the machinery with mild curiosity. Some of the rides had stopped moving and their lights had gone out, others blinked off and on, their pieces shuttering and groaning. Turning the bend, they saw what remained of the living.

* * *

The Dark Lord stood proudly among his remaining forces, which counted to be about thirty men. Some were wounded and others looked like they may not survive the night, but it did not concern Voldemort. He was victorious and he was going to revel in his victory, enjoy the triumph before the captive resistance members. Amongst the bright flickering lights of the amusement park and the sunset sky, darkness had prevailed. Evil had destroyed Good for once.

The Death Eaters that could stand positioned themselves in two rows on either side of the lane with the prisoners in the center on their knees before their conqueror. Elijah stared defiantly up at Voldemort, his blazing blue eyes held no fear, but only pride. It angered the Dark Lord and he struck Elijah across the face.

"NO!" cried Rebecca, but a Death Eater grabbed her arm to hold her in place. The other captives were warned to stay still.

"You've lost, dear boy," Voldemort sneered, as Elijah picked himself up from the ground and turned his face towards the sinister man. "You have nothing left."

Elijah's eyes flickered to Rebecca and conveyed to her that she should stay still, then turned back to Voldemort, "I still have my soul, my integrity."

High-pitched laughter that haunted many dreams escaped from the Dark Lord's lips and mingled with the smoke growing in the air like storm clouds. The fire's reflection danced in his dark red eyes.

"Your _soul_?" he laughed again. "Your… _integrity_?" He grinned maliciously, "Those… qualities won't keep you alive. Nothing will." He smirked, as Elijah's defiant glare returned. He snapped his fingers and a rather imposing figure of a Death Eater came forward and grabbed Elijah in a tight hold. The Dark Lord sauntered over to Rebecca.

"Leave her--" his last words were muffled, for another Death Eater cast a silencing charm upon him. The other prisoners watched in fear. There was nothing they could do.

"Leave her what? Alone?" He chuckled and dragged a long, ice-cold finger down the side of Rebecca's face. She was visibly trembling, but there was that same defiant look in her young eyes. He smirked and turned to Elijah, "Let's watch your strength diminish." Grinning, he lifted his wand and Elijah lurched, but was held in place. The Dark Lord pointed his wand to Rebecca, while watching Elijah's expression.

Yes, he was reveling in his victory.

But, he suddenly turned and aimed his wand at one of the prisoners, "_Infectum!_"

Tara Rhodes was young and inexperienced. Moreover, she was a squib and had never even heard of the curse before the Dark Lord had cast it on her. She found herself unable to breathe in and instead it felt like her breath was being drawn right out of her, as if she were the vacuum of space. A coldness swept through her and her pretty tanned skin began to gray. Horror became her dying expression as her limbs went heavy and cold, then she began to fade until the wind blew her away like smoke.

Some of the other prisoners screamed and others whimpered. Tears were shed and Rebecca had closed her eyes, unable to watch the effects of the curse. Whatever Elijah had screamed had been lost because of the silencing charm. Voldemort beamed and turned his wand towards another prisoner.

"_Putesco!_"

A scream erupted from Tim Parker. His body went into a state of rapid decay and turned to dust, which was blown away by the wind as well. One prisoner caught a mouthful of the dust and promptly vomited.

"Please! Just kill them properly! Don't make them suffer!" Rebecca pleaded, which only brought the Dark Lord's attention back on her.

"Kill them properly?" Voldemort raised a brow at her, "You mean like this?" He pointed his wand at her and bellowed, "_Avada Kedarva!_" Her body stiffened and her eyes went blank. The Death Eater holding her let her go and her body plunked unceremoniously to the ground.

Dorian Gray and The Seer made their way slowly towards the gathering of Death Eaters, the Dark Lord and his prisoners. He watched, expressionless, as his master killed two prisoners and then a third. Their identities were unknown to him, but he felt The Seer's grip on his arm tighten and then she lost her step for a moment.

"Seer! What's wrong?" He noticed her hand had gone to her left shoulder and a wince passed over her face before she seemed to gain control of herself again. Pain was bleeding through her shoulder, down her arm and up her neck into her head. Her clothing felt damp around her shoulder where she had been bitten by that strange instrument the young lad had held.

"My shoulder," she paused for a moment, as time seemed to slow for a mere second, and then returned to its normal pace, "It bleeds." Despite the pain, she stood straight, with Dorian's help.

"We'll get you a healer," he answered and helped her towards the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

When they arrived, two Death Eaters were struggling with Elijah, trying to keep him still and keep him from his dead wife, who stared straight up at the reddening sky. Voldemort was cackling, enjoying the struggle Elijah put up. Other Death Eaters chuckled and smirked, but did nothing to detract from their Lord's enjoyment lest they suffer any punishment.

* * *

Dorian and The Seer stood still once they were within a reasonable amount of distance between the Dark Lord and themselves. They waited until he turned and saw them. A smile spread across his lips, "Ahhh, my dear Seer." He did not address Dorian at all, save for a quick glance. Voldemort gestured to the fire that was now spreading through the park and devouring everything. "I see you were successful in your duties."

Elijah watched The Seer, Talia, bow slightly in response to Voldemort. He tried speaking, but again, nothing came. Tears came to his eyes, but they would not shed. He was too distraught to even cry. This torture would not end until the Dark Lord killed him and he prayed that moment would come soon. As for Talia, he could not believe that she was willfully obeying Voldemort, even though all evidence suggested that she was. When she glanced at him, he saw unfamiliar eyes that reflected nothing but indifference. He understood now what Kerwin had spoken about. Speaking of which, he wondered if Kerwin had been able to escape.

"Did you find any prisoners?" The Dark Lord was finally addressing Dorian.

"There was a chance two may have escaped, milord, but The Seer's fire had already spread through the forest. Their chances of survival are slim, if they aren't dead already," he continued before the Dark Lord could scold him, "I killed one that had attacked The Seer. I found she is in need of a healer and thought better to let the fire take care of the escapees."

There was a short silence and Voldemort seemed to accept Dorian's report. He brought a finger to The Seer's chin and lifted her face to look at his. "Is this true, my dear?"

She nodded and Voldemort snapped his fingers. A Death Eater stepped forward to care for The Seer and Voldemort turned back to Dorian.

"Where is Kerwin Darkmoon? He had best not have been one of those who escaped."

Elijah's heart nearly stopped.

"He is dead, my Lord, by my hand."

Elijah's face fell and he hung his head. Voldemort's demeanor brightened, "Wonderful. I wish to see his body."

"I had left him in burning ruins, my Lord. There might not be anything left of him."  
Voldemort scowled, but was pleased the man was dead. He looked at The Seer for any reaction of her brother's death, but there was none. She was looking at each of the faces of his prisoners. Still pleased, Voldemort turned to Elijah, a winning grin plastered on his pale face.

"Good night sweet hero," his tone was mocking. Voldemdort took several menacing steps forward, pointed his wand and cast the killing curse. Like his wife, Elijah's body froze and a lifeless expression came over his face. The Death Eaters let go of him and his body fell to the ground. The Seer's gaze had fallen to Elijah's just as he died and she felt nothing. The Death Eater attending to her had given her something for the pain in her shoulder and still she felt nothing.

Voldemort whipped around to finish the rest of his prisoners when all went dark for a moment. The Seer's expression became intense and her eyes watered as a vision flashed through her mind. The Dark Lord saw nothing but darkness and then the sound of flapping wings. A chillingly beautiful birdsong echoed in the darkness and the vision faded. Voldemort immediately glared at The Seer, looking for an explanation.

Her face had drained of color, as a headache from the vision took full force at the base of her head and radiated around to her forehead above her eyes. Finally, she spoke, "A songbird rises from the ashes and returns to it's roost." She met the Dark Lord's gaze and saw his frustration, but surprisingly, he smiled.

"Let's be sure none of these prisoners are the songbird, hmmm?" A ripple of fear went through the remaining captives and the Dark Lord sneered, "Set them on fire, my dear." With the command given, he motioned to the Death Eaters to follow him, giving The Seer ample room to do her job. With the help of the healer Death Eater, she stood and looked at the captives as they huddled in fear, their eyes staring at her. She lifted her hands and the wind picked up. A line of fire circled around the prisoners and slowly began to fill in. Dorian took her arm and helped her walk away with the rest of their comrades, the death screams of the remaining opposition faded in fire and smoke.


End file.
